But, with my hair down, in girl's clothes, and with my face carefully made up I looked passable, attractive even, young and innocent but with a hint o... sinful desire. Well that is what I thought anyway.So how come I was standing there admiring myself in my new spaghetti strapped, mid-calf length, tight-fitting red chiffon dress, hair piled up loosely with wisps down my neck, waiting to surprise a guy I had known most of my life. It had all started with a phone call. Sean rang me six months. The waitress apologized and I felt deflated. Later onthat year I was home and the sitter was talking on the phone. I wentinto my parents bedroom and started trying on my mother's clothes likeI'd done many times before; dressing up and pretending I was a woman.Well, my father came home early and caught me. That was the only time hephysically hurt me, hitting me in the face. I was petrified. My mothercame home and I lied about falling on the stairs to get the bruise.Well, the punch did the. More

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